Tales of the Fox
by skittlefizzzx
Summary: TEMPORARY HIATUS - SHALL RETURN IN JUNE (sowwy!) / Stuck somewhere between fox and human, Ahri's dream has always been somewhat misunderstood: to build a bathhouse servicing the champions of the League. But what new conflicts will arise in the wake of her new declaration?
1. Dreams and Other Things

Hi everyone! Welcome to my first League fanfiction, which will mainly be about Ahri's adventures outside of the Fields of Justice (even though this first chapter is probably misleading, since it seems to primarily concern Wukong, haha). Ideally I'd like to frame these in a mini-episode format, with each piece being able to stand alone while contributing towards a larger plotline, but we'll have to see where my writing takes me, hehehe.

At any rate, I have a love-hate affair/addiction with LoL, and Ahri is my favorite champion, so I figured if I might as well start writing a fanfiction, it might as well be about her! Oh, disclaimer: there may or may not be some not-so-subtle Pokémon easter eggs/reference thrown into this story too, because Pokémon is awesome. Yay.

I hope you enjoy it!

EDIT 03-28-14: Cover art from the wonderful Claparo-Sans! I love the old-school, water color, traditional style the piece exudes, almost like it's a fairytale. It feels so ethereal and awesome and yay. Check them out on Deviantart for more awesome arts!

(Unfortunately, it wasn't made specifically for this piece, and probably doesn't make as much sense to the story. But it's pretty! xD Anyway, if YOU have awesome art skills (because I sure as heck don't) and would like to draw Ahri being derpy in front of her bathhouse, or something...I'd love you forever.)

* * *

_A thought…_

_a dazzle of blue flame…_

_a high-pitched, girlish giggle._

_(Teeheeheeheeheee...)_

* * *

Wukong left the field, sullen-faced, shoulders hunched forward, and trailing his bo staff on the floor behind him. He had taken quite a beating that day, what with three ridiculously early morning games, back-to-back-to-back (and all of them losses to boot, as if he needed a cherry on top of his sundae…of misery). Not to mention he had missed breakfast, and now it was an hour past noon. It certainly brought out the animal in him, and his lip curled upwards in a feral scowl as he passed through a chatty cluster of Summoners loitering near the lobby entrance, who scattered at the sight of him.

Nope, he really wasn't in a good mood.

"OPPA!" came a sudden, enthusiastic shriek from behind him, and Wukong groaned, closing his eyes. The voice was unmistakable, and couldn't have been more ill-timed. Begging the Wise One for a shred of patience, the monkey sighed, then contorted his furry features into a passable smile before turning around. "Hey you," he replied, moments before the breath was knocked out of him by a whirling blur of white. "Oomph!"

_For a ninety pound enchanted fox, damn she hurts, _he groaned inwardly, and wondered how many of his ribs she had managed to break. A halfhearted attempt was made to disentangle himself from as many of his abuser's tails as he had the energy for, but finally he just let it be and curled into a ball on the floor, smothered in fox fur. _Ow…_

"I saw your last match," Ahri giggled, stepping back and running a mischievous eye over the many cuts and bruises that ravaged her friend's battered form. "Come on, I'll take you to the Healing Center. I have such exciting news!"

Tugging the Monkey King out of his fetal position and back to his feet, the duo hobbled down the hall in almost-silence. Yet to her credit, Wukong had to acknowledge later, at least she mustered up the patience to wait until _after_ the Joyful Nurse had patched him up and dispatched them from the medical hall before bombarding him with her unconcealed excitement. Now, sitting behind the makeshift counter of Olaf's new pub, Brolaf's, and halfway through a pint of Graggy Ice, he couldn't believe his ears.

"You're…what!?"

Ahri giggled, unclasping the velveteen bag from the sash at her waist and let it fall with a clatter onto the bar counter, causing the drawstrings to loosen slightly. From inside Wukong caught the glimmer of a thousand colors reflecting the afternoon light and knew precisely what the contents were, and, judging by the straining, bulging lumps jutting out the sides, there were many of them. His jaw dropped.

"There must be a fortune in there!" Wukong gasped, choking on his drink.

"Shhhh!" Ahri hissed back, much too loudly to be subtle. But she grinned. "I'm going to have Taric evaluate them after lunch just to be sure, but I estimate my diamonds will get me at least 25,000 gold pieces, which is just enough for that vacant lot right outside the Institute."

"That place?! Why on Runeterra would you waste a fortune on that dump? You could buy half of Bilgewater with that kind of money!" Wukong shook his head, marveling at his friend's lack of common sense. Usually it was endearing, and tolerable for the most part, but letting his friend get cheated out of her lifelong inheritance to buy 4,000 square feet of rubbish was something he, on his Ionian honor, could not simply let slide. "Really, Ahri…maybe you should think this through a little more…"

"No!" Ahri's lips puckered into a stubborn pout. "I've already thought about it. It's the last vacant space within miles of the Institute, and it's the perfect place!"

"Yeah, but remember what happened to the arcade?" Wukong still felt bad for the lot's previous tenants. The Rainbow Arcade was a quaint little hangout packed with all sorts of games for the Summoners to enjoy in their spare time, and a brilliant idea…except for one tiny oversight. Unfortunately, the game-loving Summoners had little time for Pac-Man and air hockey when they could play LoL all day, and the mistake had been costly for the co-owners, Sona and Hecarim. Rumor was that the pair had recently been forced to declare bankruptcy, and judging by their permanently-etched downcast faces, it seemed that for once, rumor spoke true.

Ahri slid a glance down the bar, where Sona and Hecarim now sat, rather isolated from their peers and mindlessly downing cups of Graggy Lite—the cheapest drink at Brolaf's—like they were shots, staring up at the line of screens hanging from the ceiling with bloodshot eyes. The televisions were always blaring at full volume, which got a little chaotic when they were also displaying three different matches simultaneously, but the majority of them were still tuned to the Rift, and the announcer's voice boomed over the speakers as yet again, Teemo had been slain.

"Well," she murmured in a low undertone, once the cheers and boos had dwindled down some, "as cute as their idea was, mine is clever. And faultless."

Wukong raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

She grinned at him, baring her pointy fox teeth. "Because they were trying to cater to the Summoners, and _I'm_ going to direct mine at Champions!"

"So what you're saying is…you're going to follow everyone else's business model." Wukong could think of at least six off the top of his head. Brolaf's, for one, Mundo's accounting firm, the Kinkou's Justice Hospital, Gragas' fine wines and liquors brewery…it was endless. In fact, he admired Sona and Hecarim for trying to _break_ the cycle.

Vigorously the fox girl shook her head. "Not a business, a _bathhouse_," she corrected. "For profit, of course! It's always been my lifelong dream!"

"I thought becoming human was your lifelong dream," the monkey retorted drily, draining the last of his beer and gesturing to the minion behind the bar for a second glass.

"No, silly, why do you think I wanted to be human in the first place? To achieve _this_ dream!" she exclaimed with an exasperated sigh, as though it was supposed to be the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh. My bad."

Ahri laughed at him. "It's okay, I understand that not everyone can be as clever as a fox," she taunted, and slid off her stool. "Anyway, watch my bag, will ya? I need to re-bun my hair…if I can charm Taric, then I'm sure he'll give me an even better deal!"

"Yeah, good luck with _that_…" Wukong mused, more to himself, for by that point Ahri had already flounced off, her tails bobbing behind her. Accepting his drink, he glanced up at the TVs again, but they had already switched to a static "Victory" screen…it looked like the match was over.

A moment later a fresh group of Champions came bounding in, half of them excited and giddy, the other half dragging their feet to the closest seats they could find. Out of all of them, Wukong was most pleased to see the graceful, lounging stride of his master, and his unblemished uniform. It was a sure sign of victory as the serenely smiling swordsman approached the monkey, and gestured to Ahri's empty seat.

"May I?"

Wukong nodded and flagged the minion for another drink, although the older man stopped him with a flourish of his hand. "Nothing for me, please."

"That's unlike you, Master."

Yi smiled. "Unfortunately, I am not staying long. Irelia and I will soon be departing for Ionia; I just came to inquire about your matches today. Had the scheduling not coincided with my morning meditation, I would have come to watch in person."

Judging by his student's sudden frown, Yi realized the trepidation he had felt when his student had entered the field was justified, and he shook his head. "I see," he murmured, unable to hide the disappointment in his tone.

"It was the team comp! They made me be the tank, and the carries _never_ targeted the right opponents, what was I supposed to do? I dominated my lane, but even I'm no match for Tristana when she's fed out of her—"

"Failure must be recognized, before it can be defeated," Yi replied, resting a gloved hand on his pupil's furry head. "I see you still have much to learn, my brash young grasshopper."

"I'm a monkey," Wukong grumbled back, and took another deep swig.

"I hope someday that you will understand the true nature of Wuju," the master added, glancing up at the screens, which were showcasing the rosters for the next match. "Know that I have always had full faith in your potential to carry your team to victory."

Wukong sighed. "Yes master," he muttered, through gritted teeth.

"Ah! This will be quite a match…have you seen Kennen lately? Such dedication to the gym every night for the past two months, not to mention his perseverance in meditating with me in the mornings…I admire his discipline. I believe it will show in this match as well."

_That's not the only thing that's showing_, Wukong thought, noticing the yordle Kinkou's bared midriff, exposing a furry set of chiseled abs under his now too-tight purple top. The sight was almost comical, but at that moment the camera zoomed in for a close up of the champion, and his serious, icy blue stare quelled any spark of amusement.

They watched the first half of the match until Irelia showed up ("So sorry, Master, the traffic was awful today!") and Kennen was already dominating the mid-lane with seven kills. But after a while, once Irelia began to complain about the noise level and it became clear Wukong was content to drown his morning debacle in beer, Yi deemed it wisest to bid his student good day.

"Farewell, until our next encounter. Restrain your tiger spirit and you will find the inner peace you are seeking." _That the alcohol can't attain_, he wanted to add, but refrained.

"I'm. A. Monkey," Wukong whispered back as they left, feeling stubborn and a little tipsy as he knocked back his second drink of the day. All he wanted was to forget that the morning had ever happened.

* * *

Ahri slid the last of her ornate hairpins back into her braided bun. _All done_, she cheered inwardly, tilting her head from side to side in the mirror to examine her handiwork. She was a little vain, and although her hair had been re-braided to _her_ standards of perfection, she lingered in front of the mirror for a little longer, admiring the rest of her reflection. It was hard to imagine that not too long ago she was just another starving, four-legged Arctic fox, struggling through the barren wilderness in the wake of the Rune Wars and desperate for untainted food. Just her luck then, when she found magic instead.

Even in her primal state, she knew she had been destined for something more. And for someone as materialistic, as vain as she…who loathed filth and grime even more than the pathetic attempts of that creep Draven whenever he attempted to hit on her (which was unfortunately often), what was more fitting then creating the bathhouse of her dreams?

It had haunted her often at night, a nine-tiered pagoda and a wonder in its own right, even next to the timeless Grecian temple that was the Institute of War. Through the royally painted archways and the zen garden she could see clean bamboo floors, ornate architecture, and soft-lit, round paper lanterns beckoning all visitors to a safe haven. She had seen elements of this when she was just considered vermin, and was scrounging around the streets with the sewer rats. She was lulled by the orbs of light, the intoxicating smell of fresh-roasted meat...and they had thrown her out then, and cursed her for being a vile pest.

Not this time, she vowed. She would make her dream come true. The bathhouse was just within her grasp, and she was ready to embrace her destiny.

Straightening her back and flashing a glinting, reassuring mirror at her reflection, Ahri spun on her heel and skipped out of the ladies room. Even in the half hour that she had been gone the pub had grown more crowded; Brolaf's was always the most packed during lunch time and after cocktail hour.

"Ahri, lookin' good!"

"Hey babe, come sit with us!"

"You know you want a piece of this—"

"Bro, _not_ cool!"

Ahri giggled as she passed the "DEMAAACIA!" table, as it had come to be known. Often claimed by Xin Zhou and Garen, with sometimes even the prince himself making an appearance, they flashed her a triad of charming smiles as they waved her over. But suddenly the grins disappeared from their faces, and Ahri's own laugh got stuck in her throat as she felt an arm slide around her waist and felt the tickle of facial hair against her ear.

"Hey sweetheart, got a present for ya…if ya know what I mean, hehehe." His free hand gestured down at his pants.

"Get _off_ me, Draven!" She pushed out of his embrace and glowered at the younger Noxian brother with distaste. The way he grinned at her, not to mention the bizarrely cropped hair cut and mustache like a pair of rat tails…it was vile. It also didn't help that he was slavering after her, wherever she went, and the thought of it made her tails flare upwards in angry defiance.

"Aw, come on, I already bought you a drink, unless you'd rather take a bottle back up to my room…"

"DRAVEN!" The booming voice of the Noxian general rose in an angry bellow over the speakers as Darius strode forward. "That's enough."

It was less his respect for her than it was for his brother's well-being that made him intervene, Ahri knew. Everyone but Draven seemed aware of the threatening wisps of blue smoke that had begun to emanate around her, and the small, growing orb of energy she was nursing in her right hand. Touch me again, her body dared him, and she would rush his spirit into oblivion. But the burly older brother was now resting a hand the size of a frying pan on his sibling's thin shoulder, nearly making Draven's knees buckle under the pressure. "I apologize for my brother," he growled, although the hostility in his eyes made the apology fall rather flat. His eyes darted over to the Demacian table, where the trio of men had half-risen from their seats, already reaching for their weapons, and his grip tightened, making his brother yelp a little in pain.

Ahri put on her most dazzling smile. "Thank you, Darius, no harm done," she giggled, turning her back on all of them and making her way back to the bar. The last thing she needed was a second Noxian/Demacian war to ensue, and within Institute walls, no less! No, she wasn't going to let that happen. Not with her beloved bathhouse at stake!

"Alright Wu, I'm ready, let's go get some proper food in you," she called out as she approached her companion, who was drowning at a counter surrounded by empty glasses. "Oh my god, how many of those did you…"

But then her temper flared, and a whoosh of blue flame brought Wukong out of his mug and back to his senses. "Whaa?" he mumbled. "Oh, hey Ahri…why are you looking at me like that! Get that orb out of my face!"

For Ahri was on fire, and her rage made the green orb of deadly magic in her hands swell. Around her summoners and champions alike scrambled to get out of her way, until the two were quite alone at the bar counter. Her eyes glowed a haunting, sickly hue of silvery green, and when she spoke, her shriek was deadly:

"WHERE. ARE. MY. DIAMONDS!?"

* * *

_Next Episode: Has Ahri already found the diamond thief? Plus, Olaf goes under._

* * *

Uh oh. Drama already, lol!

Comments/feedback would be very much appreciated! Thank you for reading…stay tuned for episode 2!


	2. The Diamond Debacle

Hi everyone! As a special treat, I'm releasing Episode 2 early for your reading pleasure, so enjoy! I'm toying with the idea of throwing in a love story arc as well, because, well…I'm a sucker for romance, so I guess more incentive for you to keep reading! Or maybe not. Lol.

Oh, and going forward, I think the plan will be to try and do weekly updates, so check back next Thursday/Friday! :D

* * *

Ahri lifted her head from her arms, looking despondent. They had scoured the Institute, looking for hours but now they were back at Brolaf's where she had spent the last forty-five minutes sobbing out her heart and soul.

"I can't believe you lost it!" she had screamed in a fury, unleashing a torrent of tears (thank goodness) instead of the dreaded fox fire that Wukong had feared. Yet despite his efforts, nothing he could say or do would placate her.

"That was my entire legacy!" she moaned, once her temper had cooled...slightly.

"Why, why, why didn't I get insurance?!" Slowly the anger at Wukong shifted more and more to self-pity, and the hyper rational thinking began.

"Pretty…sparkly thingies…" she mumbled incoherently an hour after that, exhausted and inebriated and rolling around an empty beer can across the counter with her fingertips until it fell off and joined the crumpled pile at her feet.

Now she had sunken into dejected, spiteful silence, looking as sour-faced as a child deprived of her candy, and Wukong feared they were looping back from the depression stages into another episode of anger. "I'm so sorry, Ahri," he tried again. "I saw my master, and it was a bad day, and I just wasn't thinking about it…"

She sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve before her shoulders shuddered in one last, frustrated sigh. "It's okay, Wukong. It's not your fault it's gone," she managed to choke out, dabbing at her red-rimmed eyes.

"We'll find them," he assured her, with more confidence than he felt, because obviously whoever took those diamonds would have disappeared long ago, unless they were idiots.

"I know who took it," she suddenly interjected, startling him with her reignited fury. "That slimy little—oh just wait until I get my hands on him…"

"Sorry…who?"

Ahri raised an eyebrow. "It's obvious, isn't it? Twitch! It has to be Twitch. That sneaky, thieving, cursed little sewer rat is going to pay for it!" Drawing a napkin towards her, she took out a pen and began scribbling a slew of words; Wukong caught the words "guillotine, spontaneous combustion," and "accident" and decided he better intervene.

Before he could respond, however, there was a loud, energetic "Hey, bros!" and suddenly the monkey was swept backwards off his stool into a crushing bear hug. "Long time no see!"

"Hi, uh—oh hi Olaf. Look, this probably isn't a good time…"

But Olaf wasn't paying attention. "Bro, your games today were gnarly, man! Makes me wince just thinking about it!"

"Can we **not** talk about that," Wukong replied icily, through gritted teeth.

"Whoa, no judgment here bro! It was a sick wipeout! I hope they add it to tomorrow's highlights!" Olaf threw his head back and laughed, then saw the untouched plate of hot wings that Ahri had pushed away and gasped as if a cardinal sin had been broken. "Brooooo…"

"Not now, Olaf," Ahri snapped, her eyes glued to the napkin.

Olaf chuckled, ruffling a hand through his thick beard. "Whoa, bro, _whoa_." Grinning like an idiot, he pulled up a stool and rested his elbows on the counter, then clasped his hands together in a feeble attempt to look more engaged. "Talk to Brolaf. What's happenin', bro."

"Kill him, I'm gonna kill him! My diamonds, _mine_, my preciousss…" Ahri hissed down at the counter and apparently ignorant of the Viking's presence beside her. Without missing a beat she snatched another napkin and continued scrawling, no doubt continuing the intricate series of plans and plots for Twitch's ultimate doom.

"Yeah, she's gonna be like that for a while. On the bright side she's at least doing something productive other than crying. What have you been up to, Olaf?" Wukong inquired, reaching over Ahri's head to help himself to a buffalo wing.

"Acht, not good, bro." Olaf shook his head, frowning. "Business is a drag, now that Gragas decided he was totes gonna branch into 'fast-food-fine-dining.' Have you seen the stand he set up by the purple nexus? Bro, it's rack-jacked like half my customers!"

Wukong shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He didn't want to admit that he himself sometimes stopped there for the braised pork rib and truffle cream cup ramen, which was shockingly delicious. And fast. "Mmmmm…" he mumbled incoherently through a mouthful of chicken, and tried to look sympathetic.

"Fast food and fine wine…yeah it's hard to compete with that," Ahri interjected, oblivious to the offended glare that Olaf was throwing her direction. "Do you think rats hate spiders? I think Elise still owes me a favor…"

"Well," he huffed, abruptly standing up, "I better check on my other customers. Later bros."

After he left, Wukong rounded on her. "That was rather rude, don't you think?"

Ahri glanced up, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"That snide comment you made about his business…it was like you were rubbing it in, or something."

She shrugged. "But it's true. Everyone wants to go to the Barrel Stand," she mused. "In fact, a prawn-and-kimchi taco sounds kind of good right now…"

"Stop! Stop!" Wukong hissed, "do you have to talk about it so loud? He can probably still here you!" He waved his hands towards Olaf, who, despite facing away from them at a nearby table, looked every inch the image of dejection, with his bowed head, drooping shoulders, and hunched back.

"I don't see what the big deal is, business is business…Olaf just needs to think of something more innovative and then he'll get his customers back. Why is this such a big deal?"

"Oh my god, I forgot that sometimes you could be so, so…"

Ahri's eyes narrowed into slits. "So…_what_?"

"So insensitive! I mean, Olaf is our friend. Could you be more of a bitch right now?"

"I can be bitchy!" Ahri exclaimed eagerly, missing the sarcastic inflections in her friend's tone. "Um...oh! At least I didn't feed three games and then lose his BFF's inheritance. Because like, really, it's not like I have a trust fund to fall back on or anything, puh-shaw."

Wukong couldn't believe she had gone there. Hell, he couldn't tell if she was consciously trying to spite him, or if it was possible she had reached a new level of naivete. Whatever it was, the day had been bad enough without the added reminders and he leaped off his seat, throwing a coin onto the table. "You know what, I think I'm gonna call it a night. Good luck with your mischief…plotting…whatever you're doing. Call me when your heart melts." Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his staff off the counter and stalked off.

Ahri watched him leave, her head cocked curiously to the side, and wondered what had gotten the monkey so riled up. _Human emotions are weird_, she finally concluded, before returning to her scribbles.

* * *

"Erm…Ahri? Miss Ahri?" The voice sounded faraway, distant.

Ahri's eyes flickered open, and she lifted her cheek off the sticky bar counter, pawing dazedly at the napkin that was stuck to her cheek. "Wh…wha?"

Slowly she began to register the persistent tugging at the hem of her skirt, and she looked down, where an apprentice castor minion was trying its best to get her attention. "Miss Ahri, Miss Ahri, you've been summoned! The game started five minutes ago!"

"What are you talking about?" Furrowing her brow, Ahri couldn't remember when she had finally fallen asleep, and she wasn't interested in waking up now. "Come and get me in the morning," she murmured, hardly coherent, and rested her head back against her arms, curling her tails over her head like a blanket.

"No Miss Ahri you must wake up! You're supposed to be on the Rift!" the minion squealed, afraid of the consequences if he failed to get this champion onto the field.

"Oh my goodness, why didn't you say so!" Now she jolted upright, and the minion breathed a tiny sigh of relief. Like a fox possessed, she made a mad dash for the arena, while the minion trundled beside her, huffing in its efforts to keep up.

"They're going to be so mad at me," Ahri groaned, sprinting towards the big fluorescent sign that indicated the entrance to the purple side. "I don't even know what the teams are, ack!"

"Pardon—me, Miss Ahri—I know—roster…please—stop—a sec?"

Glancing over her shoulder at the blue-faced minion, Ahri giggled and obliged him, bending down on her knee and patting his back while he bent forwards, gasping for breath. "Awh…poor little minion," she cooed.

He coughed; reaching into his cloak he withdrew a small crystal flask and took a deep gulp. "Oh that's much better. Let's see...you're up against Twisted Fate, and I believe they summoned Twitch to carry the match."

"Twitch, you say?" Her eyes gleamed.

"I'm sorry, but I must attend Cho'Gath now. It seems the tailor cut the inseams of his suit too short," the minion sighed, waving a distracted good bye as the fox champion hurried through the archway and into the arena. His head was cocked to one side and he was desperately listening to the complaining garble resonating through his earpiece, sighing in exasperation. But suddenly he was shrieking into the microphone, and his violet robes flurried behind him as he sprinted off again.

"NO, CHO!" His voice echoed through the deserted halls. "Noms are not for negative behavior! Agh! You spit that man out right now…"

* * *

Twitch cackled over Soraka's prone body, brandishing his crossbow above his head and savoring a last moment of triumph before the latter's body disappeared in a wisp of light. From somewhere in the jungle he could hear the raucous shouts of her teammates thirsting for revenge, and he cautiously backed into the shadows, allowing his body to fade completely against the backdrop of dark grass just as Garen and Riven rushed by. Then he ventured out in the opposite direction.

_Too easy…too too easy_, he thought with a smirk, and wondered where to set up his next ambush. Perhaps by the eminent, the most revered Lord Nashor? He deeply enjoyed the stimulating, philosophical discussions with the aristocratic worm, a far more diverting pastime then the pathetic mock battles that got so redundant, so quickly. Yes, he got easily distracted, but it's not like his team needed him anyway. They had made that very clear, from the moment he stepped foot at the Institute, and he sniffled a little at the remembered insult.

_"Stink freak!"_

_"Sewer scum!"_

_"Hey look, it's Bubonic Boy!"_

Okay, so perhaps there was more than one. Didn't they realize that all that name-calling was turning him cynical? Sure, they had hurt his feelings, at first, but after his three-day weekend back home in the sewers he had returned more apathetic and even more immune to their pathetic taunts. Gosh, whatever toxic muck was flowing in Zaun these days was really starting to improve his perspective on life. He scurried out of the dense underbrush, to check if the Baron had arrived yet, but suddenly his body froze.

"What the—"

A pink mist swirled over his eyes, and through the haze he could see the outline of a female as she approached. Voluptuous, sensual, and his evolved nose picked up deliciously faint scent of fresh strawberries wafting from her hair, making his whiskers quiver. Twitch irrationally began to wonder if the warm fuzziness making his chest swell was the rumored fantasy the humans called love. But probability-wise, he reminded himself, it was far more likely that he was having a stroke. Which would explain why this angel was coming for him…er, _at _him…

"TWITCH!"

A devilish scream brought the plague rat back to his senses, moments before the so-called angel tackled him back into the underbrush and out of the camera's eye. The hands around his throat were shaking him violently, making his teeth rattle, and he flailed his paws around, gasping for air. "This—isn't—legal—ack…help!"

Ahri pinned the rat to the ground, holding her breath at the truly awful stench that emanated from Twitch's clothes, his fur…well, everything. _Does he _ever_ bathe!?_ a part of her wondered, but aloud she hissed, "where is it?" over and over, in between jarring shakes.

"What—ack—are—ack—you—ack—talking—ack—about—ack—woman?!" Twitch squealed, finally getting a grip on her wrists and wrenching them away from his neck, which may or may not have been a terrible idea, for now she was barraging him with her fists. "Argh! Have you gone insane?! You. Are. NOT. MELEE!"

She bared her teeth, looking remarkably like a fox on the hunt, and sat back on her heels, giving the rat a moment to recover himself. "You stole them. It had to be you. Now where are they!?"

He shook his head, blinking furiously. "I…I don't know what you're talking about!" he stammered, and for once he looked genuinely confused. "Stole what?"

"MY DIAMONDS, you…you fiend!"

Pulling himself back to his feet, Twitch hesitated to respond, and instead reached for his crossbow, taking a long moment to wipe the blood and grime that had quickly accumulated over the course of the match. "Diaaaamonds, you say?" he inquired, trying to sound casual, although his heart was pounding faster. "How many diamonds are we talking about, hehehe."

"That's not relevant!" Ahri exclaimed, standing up to brush herself off, and wincing at the sight of her arms, which were caked to the elbow in mud and...she didn't want to imagine what else. Not to mention the smell that seemed to grow stronger by the second, and made her eyes water. _I am so going to need a bath after this…_

Twitch was grinning now. "But it_ is_ important, you see. That is, if you want my, uh, help. Yeah...help. To find them. The diamonds, that is. Hehehe." Was he really talking to another champion? Another _female_ champion? Man, he had never felt more suave.

Apparently Ahri disagreed. Her tails bristled and fanned outwards like an angry peacock's tail, and Twitch gulped. He turned around, to run, to disappear, to no avail. The last thing the rat would remember of the match was the flash of emerald eyes and an eternal second of burning agony before the world went black.

* * *

_Next Episode: A masquerade engagement party? And Ahri gets swept off her feet...literally._

* * *

I'm not sure how that ended up shifting into Twitch's POV! That was not intended...but I have to admit it was a lot of fun, hahaha!

Anyway, comments and feedback are always appreciated! Thank you for reading! :D


	3. A Mask, A Raid

Hi everyone! Chapter 3 continues the fast pacing of 1 and 2 (which someday I'll probably have to go back and work on, I know), but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

_The night was cool and a fresh breeze played with the loose strands of her hair as she padded across the grounds, relieved to escape the stifling crowds. Inside, the mansion was packed, the air soured by too much wine and dancing, and she felt grateful to have slipped out into the open, alone. Now she walked in a dimly-lit, shaded garden, where the only sound was the rustling of the leaves and the only lights were the soft-glowing blue petals of peonies, a mutant strain and a byproduct of more haphazard years when magic was freely abused._

But perhaps not alone after all,_ her mind cautioned, for suddenly the tips of her ears twitched, picking up a muted, wavering sound._

_As she wound closer towards the garden's center the sounds wove into a haunting, melodious lament, the music of a single flute. And at the very heart of the garden, she found the source of the song. Her path opened up into a hollow grove, flat and well-worn, ringed with dark foliage that protected a small pond at its core. At the heart of the dark waters rested a small mound of earth, upon which a cherry blossom tree had been planted. Now it was in full bloom, perfuming the air with a lingering sweetness as the buds bobbed gently in the wind. Her eyes, once well-accustomed to the night, could only make out the shadow of a man as she crept ever closer, leaning against the cherry tree. He was half-concealed by the low-hanging branches, but she noticed that his head was bowed, and he was earnestly playing with the fervor of a soul long lost in bitter grief. _

_Yet as sad as it was, it was the most enchanting thing she had ever heard._

* * *

Ahri heard the shuffle of a deck of cards and her head jolted out of the bush. Instinctively her body tensed, and she screwed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the stunning impact; that sound was distinctive, and she knew what usually followed next was invariably unpleasant.

But nothing happened.

After a few tense seconds of silence, Ahri squeezed one eye open, then blinked in surprise. Standing in the marshy shallows was the last man she was expecting to leave a target alive, given his reputation for gambling with everyone's lives. "TF?" she asked, and wondered what could have turned him so suddenly soft.

He flashed his hand, revealing a gold card, and at the sight of it she flinched, which made him laugh. "Relax, little lady," he chuckled in his Southern drawl, and took a step forward. "It isn't what ya think."

"What is it then?" she snapped back, still shocked into the defensive by this unnerving act of camaraderie. "You know we're still in-game, right?"

He shrugged. "You've got Shaco, we've got Twitch…everyone's pretty much doing their own thing this game, and besides, it's easier to chat with everyone here." He dangled the card in front of her. "Well, ya takin' it or not?"

To her surprise the golden card was just that—simply a card. Unfolding it, she read in silence for a minute, trying to decipher the elegant, spidery hand, but when she looked up, she was grinning. "Congratulations, TF!"

The wide brim of his hat shadowed his eyes, but she caught the returning smile beneath it. "Thanks," he replied. "Lady luck was smilin' on me, I reckon."

"Well, luck or not, I'd be delighted to come," she added, and tucked the invitation into her sash. "This engagement party sounds quite extravagant, though, I didn't take you for such a romantic!"

In response, the card master produced a blooming red rose from inside his sleeve, and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "Is that so?" he mused, before stretching out his hand, offering her the prize. "Well, miss, I'm hopin' you'll reconsider after tomorrow night."

"Hey, keep those for your lady, mister!" Ahri giggled, and swatted his hand away. "But yeah, about that…what's the point of giving me an invitation if the party's tomorrow, anyway?"

He looked down at his feet and shrugged, tucking the rose into his jacket lapel. Then he glanced up again. "I guess I just like cards," was his simple reply.

"Hey you two, the game's over! We're trying to clear the field!" A minion's sharp voice interrupted their conversation. He was holding a broom and looked utterly exhausted, which was understandable when they saw the bulging sack he shouldered over his robes, already splitting at the seams from reclaimed items—mainly broken weapons, shields, and other equipment from the shops. It was evident that he had been busy with cleanup. "You've got no business on the rift now!"

"Sorry, Mister Minion—sir," Ahri stammered, caught off guard by his hostile tone and the glare he shot them from under his hood. Except she didn't notice the latter, for in her excitement her gaze had quickly swiveled back to the card master. "Hey, TF, tell Eve congrats from me! I can't wait to see the ring!"

He tipped the brim of his hat her way and nodded. "Will do," he replied with the hint of a smile, pulling out a fresh pack of cards. "She's excited about it too. Says she never seen a diamond so big."

"Oh I'll bet—wait…diamond?"

But Twisted Fate had scattered the cards into the air around him, and then he was gone. The minion cursed and trudged back, muttering gibberish about wasteful Champions and the extra work the ungrateful Card Master had just caused him, tossing his bag to the side with a huff. He ignored the fox-girl, who was peering absentmindedly at the tarot cards as they fluttered about and encircled a now-empty space, for she seemed to be caught up in mad murmurings of her own.

"Diamond?" she breathed, over and over. "Diamond?"

* * *

Wukong lay sprawled over the couch, still in his pajamas and half-dozing, half-flipping through the channels. Weather, food, weather, soap operas…he flicked back to Janna just as she finished the usual seven-day forecast ("Fair weather ahead, folks, unless you piss me off!") when the phone suddenly jolted him upright. "Hello?" he nearly screamed into the phone, his heart still hammering from that shrill, buzzing ring.

All he heard was a jumbled "OPPA! Comedownhere—terrible!—howdarethey—" before the line crackled and went flat again. He couldn't tell if it was the shitty phone or the whirlwind chatter of his fox-friend, but…what did she say?

He sighed. That definitely wasn't the apology call he had been expecting when he had stormed off in anger the previous night. But she did sound quite distressed…

With a resigned sigh, the monkey reached for his pants.

* * *

Ahri paced back and forth in the lobby, biting at her lower lip. It was a terrible habit, she knew, that only happened when she was at her wit's end…but surely her ravaged lips must understand that this was a special exception. She had just lost her life's inheritance, after all.

Her life. Her diamonds. The diamonds she had collected for centuries, safely hoarded in her den, back when she didn't know their value. It was easy to pick them off the dead, for bodies littered battlefields left and right during the days of the Rune Wars, and the stones glimmered—oh, how they glittered, as though alive—amidst the piles of rusted swords, caked patches of blood, and other quiet signs of death. Then, after the transformation, they had sustained her, afforded her a life of comfort and peace among her human peers…at least for a while, until the darkness began to descend. Slowly the diamonds lost their shine, until she forgot about them; subtly a new obsession arose. The innocent sparkle of diamonds was lost in the metallic tang of blood, the hunt for a fresh soul. Even now, although Ahri shuddered at the price of her humanity, she could still feel a little bit of the darkness, the animal inside her, yearning for the old days, licking its muzzle at the memory.

"No," she whispered firmly, clenching her fists.

"No, what?"

The sudden arrival startled her. "Oh dear, Wukong, you made it!" she exclaimed, perking up at once. "You scared me!" Part of her was wondering if he would even come, since he had seemed so angry earlier...but no matter. Grabbing his forearm, she dragged him to an alcove of empty chairs near the fireplace, which was crackling with a fresh log and cast a warm, comforting glow across the room.

Wukong sat down, but he was still frowning. "Is everything alright? Your call worried me—"

"Yes, it's dreadful." A sudden lump manifested in the pit of her stomach. Was this what guilt felt like? "You know how I thought Twitch stole my diamonds?"

"Yes…"

She gulped. "Well, um…it turns out he didn't."

The monkey raised an eyebrow. "Oh no…what did you do? Is that why they didn't finish broadcasting your game? It cut for no reason, and switched to the weather." _Always the weather...can't they afford satellite or something?_

"Eh heh…my bad? In my defense it wasn't just me...the game was rather dull. Shaco backdoored the nexus, TF and I were just talking, and I think everyone else went to the Barrel Stand," she replied. "But then I got invited to TF's engagement party."

"Wow, you just got your invite? I got mine a week ago," Wukong breathed out, rather astonished. "I'm surprised he waited for so long. Wait…what's this have to do with your phone call?"

"I'm getting there! But it's Evelynn! That sneaky, manipulative little...! She's using my diamonds for her wedding! Can you believe it?"

The monkey blanched. "For real? No way! Did TF tell you that?"

"So gauche, right?! Oh...er, not exactly but wait! Don't get mad!" Ahri hastily added, for Wukong had gotten to his feet with an incredulous shake of his head. "It makes sense! Suddenly she has a diamond, right as I lose all of mine. TF is known for his shady side jobs. And…women will do unspeakable things to get one of those babies on their finger, believe me."

"I don't know what you want me to do, Ahri," Wukong retorted, throwing up his hands in defeat. "It's not like we can just march up to Evelynn at her engagement party and demand the ring off her finger." He shoved a paw into his pocket and fumbled around, finally withdrawing a crumpled slip of paper. "I have a better idea; you take this"—he shoved the business card into her hand—"and give Cait a call. This is more down her alley, don't you think?"

She frowned. "You don't think I'm right?"

"No, that's not what I meant at all! I just think that you're still getting over the fact that they're gone…and it would be nice to have a third-party who knows what they're doing." And, after a short pause, he added quietly, "and I don't want you to get in trouble."

Ahri's face brightened up immediately. "But that's what you're here for, Wu! I could never raid this party without you to back me up!"

"Wait, whoa, raid? Who said anything about a raid?"

"Like you said, we can't just demand the ring off her finger," Ahri replied, tutting in exasperation at the sight of her friend's baffled face. "Don't you see? If we break in while the party is happening, it will give us time to find the rest of my diamonds, and then we'll know for sure that they're the thieves!"

Wukong gritted his teeth. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. I mean, we have invitations…it seems absurd to break in when they've _invited_ us."

"It's the only way," she said, in a tone that clearly signified the matter was closed. "I have to do this—no, I'm going to do this. So are you in or not?"

There was a long pause.

"Oh alriiiight," Wukong finally groaned, "I'm only going as backup though. If there's a hint of trouble we go back to the party as _guests_, got it?"

Ahri leaped off her seat, her tails ecstatically bouncing up with her. "Agreed! Wu! Oh, you're the best! Try and act casual until tomorrow, you hear? I don't want them to get a whiff of what we're planning!" Her features broke out into a sly grin. "This is gonna be so much fun!"

Given the horrified look on Wukong's face, it was clear that he did not find the idea entertaining in the slightest. _I hope for our sakes the diamonds are there…because we are so going to need bail money, _he moaned, watching his mischievous fox-friend scamper away.

* * *

They had chosen a mansion, built especially for special occasions and located close enough to the Institute of War that it was hardly an hour's train ride away, and therefore an easy destination. As the dusk darkened into night, strings of tiny lights flickered across the property grounds like fireflies coming to life, and revealed a festive outdoor scene, although it seemed the guests were content to keep the party indoors, for the time being.

"Ouch, Wu, that was my tail!"

"Which one?"

"Oh _ha, ha,_ very funny. You go first, then!"

Keeping to the long, lingering shadows, Ahri and Wukong crept through the courtyard and approached the mansion's entrance. A paved road lined with peach trees led to a circular driveway, at the center of which was a trickling marble fountain spewing colored, iridescent water. It cast a violet hue on the crescent of porch steps that welcomed guests through a double set of glass doors, both of which had been thrown open for the occasion. Laughter and idle conversation, coupled with the enticing scent of exotic food, wafted through the air and made Ahri's stomach growl.

"Wow, someone's starving."

"Oh, shut up, Wu."

"Want a peach?"

Ahri glanced back; in the dim light she could see him hopping on his tail like it was a pogo stick, and judging by the crunching noises, also savoring the taste of stolen fruit. "Wu!" she hissed. "Pay attention!"

"I don't know why we couldn't have just put on our costumes and walked in. It's a masquerade…not like they would've recognized us anyway, with the costumes _you_ got."

Ahri knew he was referring to the contents of her backpack, but she herself was proud of her costume design skills. She had reasoned that once they were inside, they would need more suitable cover than the simple, black lycra suits they were wearing at the moment, which would have immediately signaled them as cat burglars, or at the very least, party crashers. _Party crashers without any taste_, Ahri reminded herself, horrified at the very idea, _and that is __completely unacceptable. _So now she was lugging along two ornate, heavily layered costumes fashioned out of black satin and heavily embroidered with gold thread, in keeping with the Venetian theme. There was also a lock picking set, a complete set of blueprints detailing the interior of the mansion, even down to the electrical wiring, and a lump of C-4, just in case. Of course, she hoped they wouldn't need to resort to that.

(Although a little part of her was hoping that they would.)

"Alright, according to the blueprints the master suite is located on the top level to the right," Ahri whispered as they crouched in the grove of dense shrubbery lining the mansion's foundations. "Of course, there's an identical suite on the top level to the left."

"What?! Why?"

"Well…I'm assuming if someone decided to get married here, they would need a room for the bride to get ready and a room for the groom…"

"That's not the point, Ahri! Which room are _we_ supposed to target!? Hell, how do you even know the diamonds are in the master suite? Er…one of the master suites?"

She chuckled a bit at that. "Well…I'm not sure, to be honest. But why not? And the right suite is a lot easier to get into. Bigger balcony."

"And what if it's on the other side of the building?"

Ahri's eyes glinted mischievously in the near-darkness, and Wukong gulped. He did not like that look. That look was not his friend.

"Well, I hope you can run fast." Setting the pack on the ground, Ahri pulled out a long line of rope, leaving Wukong to ponder at what a horrible, harebrained scheme this was turning out to be. Even worse, the words she said next words did nothing to alleviate those fears. "Uh…Wu?"

"Oh no, what now?"

"Um…I think I forgot the little hook-thing…"

"The what?"

He turned around to find Ahri flinging items out of the backpack left and right, her teeth bared in frustration. "It's not in here! I can't find it! The grapple-y...thing! It's not in the bag!"

"Seriously!?" Wu stooped to pick up a cluster of tiny wires, and a handful of gray-colored clay. "You bring _explosives_, and you forget a grappling hook?"

"WU!" she pined, "do something!"

The monkey sighed. He should have said, "Oh well, I guess we'll just use our invitations and enjoy the party now." Hell, he was going to say, "I'm sorry, Ahri, but I guess Fate is telling us not to do this." But somehow, seeing her crestfallen face, he somehow ended up blurting out "alright, alright, calm down. I got this" instead.

Stepping past the whimpering fox, he glanced up at the wall, immediately berating himself for the words. For one, he didn't want to be an active, willing member in this scheme of hers, and secondly...how the hell was _he_ even supposed to get up there? Without his enchanted bo staff, the only alternative was flying. Or wall-sprinting...but four-stories? Sure, he'd taken a parkour class with Shen every now and then, but _four stories..._

Although...the thought about wall-sprinting gave him an idea.

"Hang on," he mumbled quickly to Ahri, who was wallowing nearby, and his paw swiped forwards in a blur. Before she realized what was happening, she was slung over the monkey's shoulder, and the world had turned upside-down.

"What the hell!?" she shrieked, bewildered and queasy from the sudden vertigo. "WU! Put! Me! Down!"

But either Wukong couldn't hear her anymore, or she was being ignored, for no response came, no gesture to set her back on the ground. When she arched her back to glare at him, she realized it was the former, for his eyes were closed and his lips were moving in a fast murmur, as though he was deep in meditation. Beneath his feet strips of dark smoke had begun to appear, circling round and round until they formed a more solid...cloud?

_Oh no_...Ahri gasped, suddenly realizing the monkey's plan. "Wuuuuuuu—!"

His name tapered off into a high-pitched squeal as the pair were suddenly launched into the air, vaulting up the rigid mansion wall. Dimly she registered the patter of his paws as he sprinted up the smooth brick, before a disorienting lurch in her stomach brought her back to a state of alertness as he disappeared from beneath her, stranding her in a moment of free-fall. Before she could scream again, however, she felt his fingers wrap around her arm.

"Gotcha."

She caught a glimpse of his grin as he appeared on another miniature nimbus cloud, a brief ledge for him to launch himself upwards again, disappear, and reappear a third time, panting slightly as he finally sprinted high enough to leap to the safety of the fourth floor balcony, sending the pair spiraling into a heap as they crashed onto solid ground.

"Oh my god—I didn't know you could do that!" Ahri exclaimed, breathless. Immediately her hands went to her hair to adjust the hood that had slipped back, and tend to some pesky flyaways.

"I...didn't...either!" The monkey had sprawled out across the floor, his chest heaving from the effort. "But apparently I can summon decoys one at a time. Good to know."_  
_

Lifting his head, he realized Ahri was paying him no attention; having fixed her hair she was now crouched by the doorway, the lock-smithing kit unrolled at her feet. Kneeling beside the french doors, she coaxed the steel files into the lock, twisting them one way, and then another, seemingly at random.

"Do you even know how to pick locks?" Wukong inquired, grimacing at the sight of her, half-crouched in front of the door, trying to unjam the locks. It would have been comical, if his heart wasn't pounding with exhaustion...and a growing apprehension. What _if_ they got caught? _What happens then,_ he began to wonder.

As the minutes ticked by with no success, his uncertainty devolved into a mounting dread. In the dead of night they would look like thieves, especially when they were inexplicably holed up on the balcony of private property. His stomach clenched. But at that moment he heard a small, faint _click_.

There couldn't have been a sweeter sound.

Ahri wiped the back of her hand across her brow, looking relieved, but more than that, triumphant. "Alright," she cackled, and her eyes gleamed in the moonlight. "We're in!"

* * *

_Next Episode: A dance, a brawl, and lots of champagne._

* * *

Uh oh, what other mischief has Ahri concocted for poor Wukong?

So, I totally thought of Naruto when I was re-reading the section I wrote about the diamonds and her past...it made me lol a little. Ah...Kakashi-sempai...*swoon*

Anyway, thanks for reading! Stay tuned for part 2! Reviews would be much appreciated. Any and all feedback (so yes, criticize away) helps to improve my writing, so do it! DO it now! :D


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